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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634369">old wounds, new loves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime'>TooManyGaysTooLittleTime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Morning Kisses, Past Ramsay Bolton/Jeyne Poole, Post-Canon, Sapphic Sansa Stark Fest 2020, Soft Jeyne Poole/Sansa Stark, THEY DESERVE IT, i guess it’s also a fic for, make this a tag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:09:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The sun has fallen, and yet it continues to rise, again and again.</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeyne Poole/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>old wounds, new loves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i don’t know if this is good quality or not?? i just threw it together on impulse</p><p>naturally, no editing</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa wakes with Jeyne’s arm around her, fingers digging in enough that small, moon-shaped marks have formed upon her skin. From Jeyne, however, they are not marks that signify pain, but marks that show that they are safe now. Safe enough that Jeyne may pull Sansa close, long strands of brown falling over Sansa’s shoulder. </p><p>Sansa’s hair, set against Jeyne’s, is bright, brilliant scarlet. Although the dark dye has still not faded out yet — some days Sansa doubts it ever will — the contrast between Jeyne’s hair and hers makes it look like Cat’s had used to. </p><p>Jeyne’s eyes seem to flicker open for a moment, meeting Sansa’s within the space of a blink before she closes them again. She murmurs indecipherable words against Sansa’s bare skin, and it feels like a personal prayer, whispered to the heart-tree in the quiet hours of the early dawn. </p><p>The sun has fallen, and yet it continues to rise, again and again. </p><p>Jeyne’s dark skin is illuminated with the dawn-light, heavy purple curtain swept aside to allow the sun to graze its rays over her face. She is most beautiful in sleep, Sansa thinks, gliding her hand over Jeyne’s damp forehead.</p><p>It is not that Jeyne is not beautiful at all other times, but that when her eyes are softly shut, the stresses and troubles of the day, the past that weighs upon her, sharpens her glare, hunches her shoulders — they all disappear, fading from Jeyne as if she has been immersed in water. And although he — they never speak his name, though his presence hangs over them nevertheless — still haunts Jeyne, even in slumber, Sansa will always stay by Jeyne’s side, to guard her from the nightmares. A warrior, but not one Westeros recognises. </p><p>The lack of recognition does not bother Sansa. She performs her duty for Jeyne, and Jeyne alone. </p><p>In her arms, Jeyne begins to stir, hair tickling Sansa’s skin, prickling goose-bumps across it. She opens her eyes slowly, blinking in the light, head resting under Sansa’s upper arm. </p><p>“The sun still rises,” Sansa whispers, a mantra, a prayer. A truth — for indeed, the sun will continue rising upon every day of the rest of their lives. </p><p>Jeyne lifts a tentative hand, runs it through Sansa’s hair slowly. She smiles as she does so, red hair slipping as if it is water through her fingers. </p><p>“I shall send for some lemon cakes,” Sansa murmurs, gaze fixed upon Jeyne’s gentle face. </p><p>“That would be lovely,” she replies, voice barely above silent. </p><p>Jeyne still hesitates to talk, still silences herself and her words. Sansa hopes that one day, Jeyne will speak with the same confidence, the same hope, that she used to. But for now, the silence is perfect. </p><p>Sansa threads her fingers through Jeyne’s hair — not tugging, never tugging — and leans in, asking for Jeyne’s permission wordlessly. </p><p>Jeyne nods, her own hands encircling Sansa’s neck. </p><p>Sansa pushes forward in a quick, short movement to bestow a kiss upon Jeyne’s lips. As quickly as she had moved in, she pulls away, mindful of Jeyne’s reservations. </p><p>It is worth it, though — all the sacrifice, all the pain — to see Jeyne’s smile, lit up brighter than a candle in the darkness of midwinter. Sansa readily smiles back. </p><p>*</p><p>The scent of lemon cakes is barely there, floating through the air in Winterfell, but it is enough.</p><p>It has always been enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if u liked this feel free to tell me what u thought!! i respond to all comments &amp; love them all</p></blockquote></div></div>
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